The Akatsuki Bro Code
by rabid behemoth
Summary: Tobi beats prostitutes (at Go Fish), Itachi explains fanfiction, and Team Kakashi suffers from a bathhouse-related accident. There is no fourth wall. [Crackfic!]


**Title:** The Akatsuki Bro Code  
**Author:** rabid behemoth  
**Rating:** M  
**Summary:** Tobi beats prostitutes (at Go Fish), Itachi explains fanfiction, and Team Kakashi suffers from a bathhouse-related accident. There is no fourth wall. [Crackfic! Direct inhalation may cause brain damage]

- . -

**A/N: **Warnings for mature themes/language, everything-bashing, stupidity, and retarded baby seals. This spontaneous emission of nonsense is dedicated to **cherryjubilee**. Enjoy!

- . -

**THE AKATSUKI BRO CODE**

- . -

"Come on, Itachi-san. Relax. Don't you like hookers?"

"No."

"Just one drink!"

"No."

Kisame rolled his eyes. "Do you know any words other than 'no'?"

A pause.

"Negative."

Kisame huffed. "Didn't need a Sharingan to see that one coming."

"Give it up, yeah. That guy's got a ninjatou shoved so far up his ass it takes a team effort to help him sit down," Deidara quipped, burrowed cozily between two ample breasts (if they were attached to a girl, he didn't notice). But Kisame just couldn't give up on Itachi. The Akatsuki Bro Code said so.

"Here, Itachi-san. Have a woman," Kisame tried, dropping an unsuspecting prostitute into Itachi's lap. The girl giggled nervously, but Itachi merely lifted her aside and went back to his book.

"I do not have a sexuality, Kisame."

"Your fangirls beg to differ."

"Only when they write me out of character. Which is always." He flipped a page.

"How are you even reading that, mm? I thought you were supposed to be going blind," Deidara sneered, collecting Itachi's rejected girl and plopping her on the floor next to his. He spread himself out across their laps, effectively doubling the number of breasts in his line of vision. Nice.

"I'm introverted and quiet, so I'm sometimes characterized as a bookworm. Also, contacts."

"I call bullshit!" Kisame roared, knocking back another shot of tequila. Mexico didn't exist in the Narutoverse, so where he got it from was anybody's guess. "You're only pretending to read that, or you'd know it was _Icha Icha Hustler _and therefore unacceptably OOC for you. And you _must_ have a latent sexuality. That's why you're shipped with your brother, who is sadly the most plausible pairing for a guy like you. Or that pink-haired chick, but that makes even less sense. Or me, but we won't talk about that. Because shut up."

Deidara snorted. "_Everyone_ gets paired with that pink-haired chick, mm. Me too. Even you Kisame, which is borderline bestiality, really."

"Me too," Sasori added from the corner, where he was stringing a woman up by the arms and legs with rope. Fortunately, she was used to this kind of behavior. She was less used to Hidan's pained insistence that she touch his scythe, 'just once, for Jashin-sama!'

"Me too," Kakuzu grunted from the couch at the far end of the brothel, where he was screwing a girl silly. Just kidding. He was counting his money, of course.

"Me too," Severus Snape drawled, though he was in the wrong fic entirely. Realizing this wasn't a crossover, he Disapparated with reluctance. He made sure to take a prostitute with him, however.

Deidara looked up from his quadruple-breasted motorboating (the author assumed he was a boob man for no particular reason). "Why are you guys even here, yeah? Aren't you all dead?"

"You're one to talk," growled Kakuzu. "Most of us are dead by now, but the fandom doesn't give a shit — they act like they don't even know we're gone. Which is a shame, because if I could make _money _resurrecting you bastards for their entertainment, I'd threaten Kishimoto into it. Even though I hate you all, because the only thing I like is _money_. Do you have any idea how much _money _it costs to rent an entire brothel? If _money _grew on trees I'd be a fucking arborist instead of Akatsuki's accountant. Also,_ money."_

Kisame's brow twitched. Kakuzu was totally killing his buzz, in addition to being full of it. Kisame knew damn well no one cared the greedy bastard was dead — the fans only liked hot dudes. He gulped down some vodka, though Russia didn't exist in the Narutoverse either. "Anything else you'd like to add to that rant, sunshine?"

Kakuzu punched a number into his calculator. Or possibly his abacus — the rules for the use of technology in Naruto were pretty unclear. "Would you believe my mother was a Communist?"

Kisame sighed and turned back to his partner. "Itachi-san, I don't know why we're sorta-friends. You don't smile, talk, or have interests. You are easily the most boring Akatsuki member. How did you get to be so popular?"

"Sex appeal," Itachi responded monotonously without looking up from his book. But it was a _sexy _kind of monotony.

"So it's not a martyr-adoration thing?"

Itachi turned a page. "I was popular before anybody knew about that."

Kisame scratched his head. "Yeah, popular and _boring. _And are you actually reading that now?"

Deidara paused from entertaining his girls with the mouths on his palms. Really, he was an ideal character to write smut about, and it was baffling why more people didn't take advantage of this. _Mouths _on his _palms, _people. Think about it? "Don't take this as a compliment, yeah, but Itachi is not actually the most boring Akatsuki member. Zetsu is. He's so boring, he's not even in this fic. Ditto for Leader-sama and Konan, though I suspect their absence is more due to laziness on the part of the author."

"What a bitch," Kisame frowned. "Well, where the hell is Tobi then? _He's_ not a boring character."

"Tobi's upstairs playing cards with some prostitutes," Deidara smirked. Kisame guffawed in true shark-like fashion.

"Hey, I didn't think Tobi would know what to do with a hooker if you drew him a diagram and wrote instructions in nine languages. Good for him!"

Deidara shook his head. "No, I mean he's _literally playing cards _with them, yeah."

Because this made for a convenient segue, there was a great crash upstairs. The orange-masked man appeared, rolling backwards down the steps until he smacked into the couch. He lay sprawled across the floor for a moment before sitting up groggily. He tried to stand three times, tripped over his own feet and gave up. He plopped back onto the floor and punched a wavering fist into the air.

"Tobi is a good boy! Tobi won Go Fish!" he slurred.

Itachi arched an unnecessarily sexy eyebrow. "Have you been drinking, Tobi?"

"Only what the nice ladies have been giving Tobi! Some kind of lunch punch."

Kisame, as the fandom-elected alcoholic of Akatsuki, shot him a dubious glance. "Do you mean 'hunch punch?' Like the super-strong crap frat boys feed girls so they can't say no? Or, you know, stay conscious?"

Tobi blinked up at him innocently, though how Kisame could tell that through his mask we'll never know. "Maybe? Tobi doesn't remember much. Like where Tobi's pants are, for example. Or whose hat this is on Tobi's head."

"It's a lampshade, you idiot," Deidara drawled, having moved on to titillating the girls by turning house flies into art. "And anybody wearing one is definitely drunk. It's a rule somewhere, yeah."

Kisame flipped through a little black book. "Yup, it's rule number 52 of the Akatsuki Bro Code, right before 'Pics or It Didn't Happen.'"

"Rule 53," Itachi corrected dryly. "Not that it matters because they're all made up."

"Hey, don't knock the Bro Code," Kisame said defensively. "It's the only reason such volatile personalities as ours can function together in a single organization."

"Tobi thought that was because of the Power of Friendship," the masked nin hiccuped.

Kisame shook his head. "That's a good guy trope. We're villains."

Suddenly, the room got very quiet.

"...we _are _villains, right? I mean, yeah, most of us have sentimental backstories, and we are depicted as unusually human despite our violent exteriors...and we're probably the most beloved criminal organization in the history of fandom, but we're...well, we're still _evil_, right?" Kisame looked around.

Itachi cleared his throat delicately. "Your question is too existential for a crackfic."

"...Tobi isn't a villain. Tobi is a good boy," Tobi pouted, batting at the tassels on his lampshade.

Kisame's eyes bulged. "Are you kidding? You're the biggest fucking villain of all of us! Wait. Who are you? Tobi, Madara, or Obito? When the hell was this thing written?"

Itachi somehow broke through whatever was left of the fourth wall and glanced at the date published near the top of your screen. Because shut up. "It was definitely written after his true identity was revealed."

Kisame shot Tobi a skeptical look. "So you're Obito? Then why are you still acting like a retarded baby seal?"

Tobi shrugged half-heartedly. "Tobi doesn't know," he said, resisting the urge to roll onto his back and wiggle adorably in front of men with clubs.

"Perhaps the author herself is unclear on this point," Itachi extrapolated correctly.

Kisame sighed. "Okay, so the situation has been all set up, but since there's no plot, I think this fic is about to run out of steam. Why don't we call it quits before —"

He was interrupted by a well-timed knock. His brow furrowed. "Now the who hell could that be?" he wondered aloud, striding to pull open the front door. The plot had finally arrived, in the form of a pink-haired kunoichi dressed only in a towel. Kisame's jaw dropped. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Er — hi. I know this is awkward, but can I come in? I lost my clothes in a very contrived bathhouse-related accident, and decided to borrow some from the nearest brothel for no adequately explored reason," Sakura said, fidgeting. There was a very long pause.

"Well, fucking let her in," someone shouted from the back. Kisame stepped aside reluctantly, wondering where the author was going with this.

Sakura scurried inside and met with the two-eyed stares of seven men and the one-eyed stares of seven hard-ons.

"Oh come on, guys, it's not _that _kind of fic," she said, blushing. The hard-ons went away, grumbling to themselves about pink hair and blue balls. Sakura looked around. "What are you all doing here anyway?"

Kisame shifted uncomfortably. "We're here to fuck bitches, then kill them. And in my case, eat their corpses. Like what you would expect of heinous criminals like us. Right guys?" he turned to the group for support, but only the crickets responded. Which was an especially weird effect, given they were indoors. The prostitutes went very still.

"It's okay, he's only bluffing," Hidan soothed the girls while trying to discreetly stuff his six-foot scythe under the couch cushions. They moved away from him to snuggle up to Tobi instead.

"The Akatsuki Bro Code stipulates that our organization takes an annual vacation together to promote teamwork and bonding," Itachi recited, sounding both dull and unreasonably attractive at once.

"Ah," Sakura replied, eyebrows lifting in surprise. "That's...nice."

There was a very awkward pause, in which a lot of eyes studied Sakura's towel. The hard-ons thought about returning again.

"So. About those clothes..." she piped up. The hard-ons hung their heads, defeated.

"You can borrow mine," a girl with blonde pigtails offered.

Sakura's face lit up. "Thanks!" she said, following the girl up the stairs.

Now Kisame really needed alcohol. He took a swig of ouzo, though Greece didn't exist in...you get the idea. He let out a huge belch and was turning to pester Itachi again when another knock came from the door.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he grumbled, opening it.

Kakashi stood on the doorstep, clad only in a towel...and mask and forehead protector. Let's not get _too _ridiculous here. His good eye crinkled into an awkward smile. Kisame stared.

"Hi there," he began. "I'm sorry to intrude, but there was this bathhouse-related accident, and I seem to have misplaced my student...and my clothes."

Kisame shook his head in wonder and stepped aside. Kakashi entered nonchalantly. Seven pairs of eyes stared at him, along with seven hard...kidding.

"She's upstairs," Itachi offered, looking sexily uninterested.

Kakashi nodded politely. "Thank you," he said, making his way over to the steps. Deidara extricated himself from some bosoms to shoot Kakashi a queer look.

"Isn't it a little weird for you guys to be involved in the same bathhouse-related accident, mm? I mean, she's your student, right?"

"Yeah," Kakashi said with a lazy smile.

Deidara frowned. "So like, haven't you known her since she was twelve?"

Kakashi's half-lidded eye was glazed. "Yeeeeah."

"_Eeeew,"_ the Akatsuki chorused as Kakashi wandered upstairs.

"I ship KakaSaku," Itachi remarked in very OOC fashion, to the shock of everyone. Because shut up.

"It's okay, she's always older in those fics," Tobi pointed out.

"How the fuck does that make it okay?" Kisame asked incredulously. He could use another drink right about now, but the author was running out of ideas for alcoholic beverages from other parts of the world, and Kisame just didn't seem like a wine guy. He'd have to deal.

The shark-man held up a spiteful middle finger at the author, but she didn't give a fuck.

Right on time, the doorbell rang. Kisame rolled his eyes heavenward, unsurprised. He opened the door. A pale boy with short, dark hair stood there, towel wrapped around his waist.

"Who the fuck are you?" Kisame growled.

"I'm a member of Team Kakashi," Sai said, puzzled.

"I don't recognize you."

Sai hung his head. "I'm a minor character, designed to function as Sasuke's replacement, but without any of his appeal."

"You got that right," Itachi muttered, making everyone glance at him uncomfortably. Sai cleared his throat.

"May I come in? There was this —"

"Bathhouse-related accident?" Kisame interrupted, stepping aside. "They're upstairs."

Deidara turned to the group as Sai disappeared up the steps. "What the hell is up with that team? They're pretty fucking close to be bathing together, yeah. Something smells fishy, and it's not Kisame. You don't think they're all...?" he trailed off, distracted. All three of his jaws fell open.

Sakura came down the stairs, dressed in a leather corset, miniskirt, fishnets and thigh-high hooker boots. Seven hard-ons sat up and drooled

"This was all she had," Sakura said, blushing, trying to pull her skirt down over the magically irresistible curve of her ass.

"Well, it _is_ a whorehouse," Itachi reasoned.

"Please be eighteen in this fic," choked Kisame.

Sakura fidgeted. "Well, thanks for letting me in to change. I should probably be going now," she said, inching towards the door. She opened it and stepped outside into the street. She paused, glancing back over her shoulder at the group.

"Actually, maybe you guys could help me." Seven pairs of ears were listening attentively. She continued, "I'm looking to — er — score some crack."

"There are no drugs in the Narutoverse!" someone protested. Probably an irate reader.

"What? Soldier pills are definitely angel dust, and in crackfics you can have crack," Sakura pointed out.

"Is that true, mm?" Deidara grunted to Kisame. He flipped through the black book.

"According to the Bro Code, crackfics do not usually contain actual crack, no. But yes, soldier pills are PCP."

"Gee, that book covers everything," Tobi commented in amazement, clapping his fins together. I meant hands. He missed anyway and hit himself in the face, so whatever. Sakura huffed.

"Fine, then. I'm looking to score some _soldier pills_, and_ soldier pills_ make me crazy horny, so there's no telling what kind of trouble I could get into. If I had some big, macho bodyguards to make sure no one takes advantage of my feminine vulnerability..."

Seven hard-ons stampeded toward the door.

"NOW!" Sakura shouted as the testosterone-crazed mob spilled from the doorway into the street. A net made of chakra-suppressing rope fell from the second story window towards the Akatsuki's heads —

— only to get tangled in a tree branch.

"Oops," Sakura squeaked. The other three members of Team Kakashi jumped from the window to land beside her in the street.

"Goddammit!" Naruto swore, dropping his sexy-no-jutsu in a cloud of smoke. "This didn't happen in the original outline!"

Kisame's eye twitched. "Are you serious? That was your big plan? Catch the Akatsuki in a giant fucking net?"

Sai shrugged, clutching his towel around his waist tighter. "It was Naruto's idea."

"It hasn't been done before! It works on bugs and fish. I know it would have worked on you all too, if only that _tree _hadn't gotten in the way," the blonde growled. He raised a fist toward the offending plant. "Fuck you, tree! You're an enemy of Konoha! When I'm Hokage, I'll have to you turned into toilet paper! _Chouji's_ toilet paper!"

The tree remained resolutely silent. Naruto assumed it was too afraid of him to speak. Slightly mollified, he turned back to the group.

"That really wasn't a very good try, yeah," Deidara sniffed.

"Well, neither were most of the jokes in this fic," Sakura shot back.

"Touche," Itachi allowed. Silence fell as the two groups stared at each other.

"Well. This is awkward," Kakashi said, scratching his neck.

"Anybody wanna play Go Fish?" Tobi piped up. There were one or two grunts of moderate interest.

"How about if the winner gets to have sex with Sakura?" Kakashi offered, wagging his eyebrows. Everyone hooted with enthusiasm, tension suddenly forgotten.

"Kakashi-sensei!" Sakura gasped, scandalized.

"Sorry, Sakura. Take one for the team?" He crinkled his eye charmingly. "And I do mean that literally."

"Hey, that's no fair!" Naruto protested. "I'm terrible at card games, like most things!"

Kakashi shrugged. "Fine. All the losers too, then."

Naruto pumped his fist in the air. "Score!"

The hard-ons applauded. Don't ask how. They all headed back into the brothel together, and everyone was happy. Even Sakura, who finally got to stop being useless.

- . -

**-fin-**

- . -

**A/N: **The "because shut up" joke was shamelessly ripped from LittleKuriboh's very excellent Yu Gi Oh: The Abridged Series, which you should google immediately if you haven't seen, regardless of whether you know or care about Yu Gi Oh (I didn't). All the other jokes are mine, unfortunately._ I regret nothing!_


End file.
